


The World is a Curse

by Russian_Faerie



Series: Alternate Universe - Mafia [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Airports, F/F, Guns, Minor Character Death, Russian Mafia, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 11:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12506824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Russian_Faerie/pseuds/Russian_Faerie
Summary: It snowed the day of her brother's funeral, the cold seeping into her winter jacket as she lugged her bag down the Nikiforov's family manor.





	The World is a Curse

It snowed the day of her brother's funeral, the cold seeping into her winter jacket as she lugged her bag down the Nikiforov's family manor. The driver gave her a sympathetic look as he took her bag from her and put it in the back of the car.

The overly cheerful voice of her best friend, Mila's, adoptive father sounded from behind her as she was just getting into the car.

"Sara! Where are you going?"

She looked up to see Victor casual standing at the top of the stair case.

"You know damn well where I'm going, bastard!"

Victor winced at this and he took a step forward, his pristine suit fluttered in the howling winter wind and his slightly diabolical smile easily gracing his features.

‘I guess you have to keep your public image on when you are the head of the Russian Mafia.” She vengefully thought.

"Would you just leave me alone!" she yelled. "It's your fault that Michel is dead!"

At this Victor’s chalky white face flushed as his fist clenched, a tell-tale sign that he was pissed.

"You know that's not true, Sara!" Victor called, his cold eyes narrowing as he slowly strode down the stairs.

"It is! If you had just controlled your temper while talking to Georgie, this would never have happened!"

She didn't notice that Victor was now a lot closer to her than before and that he was taking controlled breaths.

Without saying anything more she slid into the car and slammed the door, giving the driver instructions to go to the airport.

-

One wearisome drive later, Sara’s hand clenched around her suitcase handle as the minutes crawled by; her foot impatiently tapping against the airport floor.

Mila was late.

With the people who killed her brother still at large and Sara’s increasing hatred for the Nikiforovs, Mila thought it would be a good idea to go back home to Italy for a while. They had had an explosive argument about when they should leave; Mila fearing that the people who killed Michel would come after Sara and Sara refusing to leave before her brother’s funeral. Eventually Sara had won and Mila had been paranoid for the entirety of the two weeks that they stayed in Russia.

Now she was late.

Sara’s foot started with new resolve when her phone pinged, making her body lurch.

**_Mila:_ ** _Just arrived… where r u???_

**_Sara:_ ** _I’m waiting at the gate, hurry up._

The minutes dredged by as Sara took small sips of her coffee.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The first boarding call resounded from the speakers, and Sara worriedly looks at the security border.

Tap. Tap. Tap

Everyone is drifting towards the plane entrance.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Sara!”

Her lungs exhaled, and her she felt her eyebrows twitch as she looked at her messy friend who was, comically, trying to skip forward from the security checkpoint, while putting her shoes back on.

Huffing, Sara tugged at her suitcase and walked towards the passport checkpoint, flashes her passport and settling in. A few minutes later, Mila stumbled in and sat next to her.

“What took you so long, we almost missed our flight!”

“I had to confirm something.” Mila muttered, shoving something into Sara’s hands.

Looking down at the round piece of jewellery in her hand, she noticed how the cool metal glinted in the light of the plane cabin. Brushing her finger over it in a vain attempt to warm it up, she felt a small engraving where she couldn’t see and turned it over. A little fairy was engraved in the silver and Sara felt herself giggling; the stress of everything finally getting to her.

“While I appreciate the thought, if this is why you were late for the flight, I think I might cry.” Sara declared in between the bubbling fits of giggles.

“It’s important Sara!” the Russian quietly said, leaning in close and grasping her hand. “The reason I was late was because I was organizing our chauffeur.”

“So, what does this ring have to do with anything?”

“Sara there are people who are coming after us; people who will be fully equipped to kill us and we won’t be able to trust random strangers to help us.” Mila explained, her pale fingers slipping the ring on Sara’s left index finger. “The chauffeur will be wearing this ring and so will we. This ring will help us recognise them and vice versa.”

With a nod, Sara looks out the window as the plane speeds down the runway.

 

The plane ride was very boring. The constant drone of the plane engine and people’s voices annoyed Sara so much that she angrily grabbed her earphones and blasted some French pop music, the foreign music lulling her into a fitful sleep full of nightmares.

_They were trapped in a vacant and dark, cold area. In a desperate attempt to shield her brother, she tugs his hand, trying to get him to step back from the approaching group of intimating, suited people._

_“Georgie,” The gruff warning tone of Victor’s voice floated from beside her as he stepped forward, shielding their small, unarmed group. “I suggest you take your group of bandits somewhere else.”_

_They had gone to the city to buy Sara and Michel graduation outfits._

_“Now, now, now Victor. We can solve this easily, just come over here and talk to me.” Georgie requested, a cruel smirk gracing his face as he pointed to a corner outside of earshot._

_With a quick, futile glance towards Mila, Victor calming walked over, Georgie slinking behind him. The bandit group spread out in front of us, pushing us against the wall and Sara remembered how Michel’s sweaty hand had trembled as he breathes became increasingly shallow._

_What happened next, was probably imprinted in her mind for ever. All she remembered was Victor looking agitated; his eyes narrowing, his fist clenching, and then a series of gunshot. The first one from Victor’s gun and had missed Georgie by a hairline. When the second one went off, Sara couldn’t hear anything; deaf from the first shot, but what she did know is that she felt a violent jerk, the splatter of her brother’s blood splashing across her face and his hand lax as his crumpled to the ground._

She woke with the tragic iron taste of Michel’s blood from her once gaping mouth as the pilot’s voice echoed over the system, saying they would land in a few minutes. Sara noticed Mila’s concerned face and if she looked anything like she felt, it was probably well justified.

“Nightmares.” She whispered.

“I’m sorry.” The guilt was evident in Mila’s voice; she obviously still blamed herself for what happened.

She leaned into Mila’s shoulder, grabbing Mila’s hand in her own trembling one.

They stayed like this until the plane landed and they were one of the last passengers on the plane.

Once they collected their other bags, Sara led the way through the airport as Mila struggled with the bag cart. When they came across a place to sit down and wait, Sara made her way to the bathroom, leaving Mila to look after their luggage as she had a moment to herself.

Being back in Italy was not what she expected it to be like. She expected to feel some sort of relief but being back in her home country is just made the acute pain that was once her brother, sharper.

Washing her face, she ignored the way she looked sickly. Her olive skin had gotten a pale undertone from the stress and snow of her life in Russia. The dark bags underneath her eyes made her look slightly crazed and by taking out her tight ponytail, her messy dark hair didn’t help improve the image.

When someone walked into the door and stood there waiting to use the sink, she let out a huff and stood back, planning on going back to Mila, only to be stopped by the petit woman standing there.

“You are Sara Crispino, correct?” the lady asked in stilted Italian.

Giving a nervous nod, Sara was surprised when the lady violently grabbed her right wrist, baring her teeth as she did it.

“You’ll be coming with me then.” The woman growled in Russian as she tugged Sara out the door.

Panic flooded Sara’s whole body and for a second she couldn’t think straight. But when her kidnapper struggled with opening the door, Sara saw her chance and backhanded the lady across the face, the ring Mila gave her leaving a red imprint on the girl’s pale face.

Sara’s heart beat frantically in her chest as she sprinted back to where Mila was calmly sitting, fiddling with her earbuds.

“Mila!” Sara winced at the hysteria in her voice but was glad that it immediately snatched her friend’s attention, “We need to get out of here, now!”

Clearly the panic that Sara didn’t doubt was clearly wiped on her body, Mila didn’t need any explanations before she jumped up and started pushing the luggage cart towards the exit. However, before they could get far a group of people circled around them and before Sara could even react, Mila had her pushed down on the ground, her body covering Sara’s as the screaming started.

The screaming was hectic and slightly disturbing and in a desperate attempt to ground herself, Sara focused on the glint of her ring.

The metal shined.

The men yelled, “Get down.”

The fairy engraving sparkled.

A woman clenched her gun, threateningly waving them around at the airport.

Mila whispered, “Sara, I’ll get you out of this.”

Sara noticed that Mila had shifted her weight, her red hair falling across Sara’s face.

“They’ll be here soon.” Mila whispers and Sara can vaguely hear the soft click-clack of her nails against, what she assumed, was the surface of Mila’s phone.

They seemed to stay like that for a long time, long enough that Sara’s back was aching when it happened.

_They_ had arrived.

Not that Sara knew who they were but she was just going to assume that they were the people that Mila was referring to earlier. In fact, she couldn’t even see them but she heard the sounds of fighting around her; Mila’s hair still covering her eyes. Well, it was covering her until Mila was hoisted off of her body with a soft grunt and Sara barely noticed that the man who helped her up had a fairy ring on until her eyes gleamed onto the figure of the one and only Georgie.

Sara couldn’t remember making the conscious decision to pick up the gun that had fallen beside her. She hadn’t even noticed it in her frenzied state but once she saw Georgie the gun was suddenly in her hands and she was sprinting towards him. The other people guarding her didn’t notice; they were too busy dealing with the ringed group.

“Georgie!” she yelled, the fury and hurt rather obvious in her voice.

He turned and smirked at me.

“Hello there Sara! How’s your brother doing in the ground?”

And she shot him. Well tried to anyway. The gun kickback stung her hands and her shoulders ached as the glass behind Georgie smashed. The chorus of screams echoed in her ears as she dropped the heavy piece of metal. Sprinting forward, she chucked him on the ground and punched him in the nose. Then on the throat. And then she ripped out the singular earring, his blood soaking the edge of her sleeve.

“How!”

Slap.

“Dare!”

Punch.

“You!”

Grabbed his hair.

“Talk about him!”

Smashed head.

“You killed him!”

Glazed eyes.

“You killed him!”

‘And you killed me!’ the voice of Georgie’s voice wisped in Sara’s mind as her body collapsed against the too still body Georgie.

Laying her head on his chest, she could somehow ignore the silence of his once beating heart as her eyes stared at the dull golden band on his ring finger.

‘I killed him.’

‘Oh god.’

‘At least he’ll never hurt me again.’

Sara’s eye’s flittered closed as she passed out.

   
She woke up a few hours later, Mila next to her as a dark figure drove them down a bumpy road as they travelled away from Italy, desperately trying to get away from the murder scene behind them. The wispy voice of a singer sang sweetly to the heavy, metallic beat.

“The world is a curse, it will kill if you let it.”

So don’t.


End file.
